Little Lichtenstein's Flowers
by mrpink33
Summary: a young Lichtenstein is entertained by her new brother's imagination, although what happens later that night is beyond her own imagination. just a sweet story about Lichtenstein's first night of exploration at her big brother Switzerland's house.


Okay, I'd just like to say that I can in no way take full credit for this, my idea was basically just applying the characters and adjusting the story to fit to what I was daydreaming it to go like while reading it.

The plot (and practically all the dialogue) is from a Hans Christian Anderson story called "Little Ida's Flowers"

But I really like the way it all sounded when it came out. I changed the birch rod to an oak rod so that I could put a daisy on top of it and call it gerita since (according to google and wikipedia) the oak is Germany's national flower and the daisy is Italy's.

Anyway the point of all this hullabaloo is just to say that I know none of it is mine really, and I don't want people crediting it to me :P but enjoy if you wish:)

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><p>Lichtenstein sat pouting in her room of playthings, the green stems hanging limp in her little fingers.<p>

The faded petals drooping down from their upright stance, turning brown around the

Edges and translucent in the middle.

"Big brother! Big brother! MY poor flowers are quite dead!"

She stood from her spot on the floor and ran over to her brother who was sitting quietly on the sofa; twisting a metal rod inside an old pocket watch, trying to perfect it.

She jumped up next to him and sat on her knees as she frantically shoved her dying flowers into his vision, a pout on her normally happier face.

"They were so pretty yesterday, and now all the leaves hang withered. Why do they do that, brother?"

Her sad eyes looked up to him and he couldn't be angry with her. She looked like it was her pet, not her flowers that had just died. He sighed and picked up his screwdriver and set them in his pocket leaning back into the sofa.

However, on the sensitive subject of her beautiful little flowers, Lichtenstein was a rather impatient little girl. She looked panicked from her dear big brother, who was taking his dear sweet time, to her dying flowers, and back and forth so many times before nearly jumping into his lap and shoving the flowers into his face.

"Big brother! Why do the flowers look so faded to-day?"

Switzerland had his eyes crossed looking at the dying tulips pressed to his nose and managed to push his little sister off of him.

"Lichtenstein! What has come over you? You must sit down on the sofa and hold your flowers, not shove them in my face!"

She moved her feet out from under her and hung them over the end of the sofa. Her head hanging in disappointment, and Switzerland couldn't help but notice her sudden resemblance to the dying flowers.

And then Switzerland realized he had compared his little sister to something dead.

He looked to his side and saw his sister starting to scoot off the couch and walk slowly back to her toys.

"I'm sorry brother, I didn't mean to."

The flowers handing from her fragile little fingers, and he couldn't, he felt that dreadful feeling welling up in the pit of his stomach. He hated that feeling; it had become so much more prevalent since his little sister came to live with him.

"Damn."

He stood frozen like that, arm outstretched hand gripped around her puffy little sleeve, and her staring at him expectantly. He had just created an incredibly awkward situation because he acted impulsively on a pang of guilt. Damn.

And he had spoken vulgarly in front of Lichtenstein!

"Damn!"

He hissed to himself and let go of her sleeve to hit himself in the side of the head repeatedly.

So stupid!

Then he looked at Lichtenstein who was looking quite worriedly at her beloved big brother. He collected himself and motioned for her to sit beside him.

He was smart, he was an accomplished student, he could be…creative…couldn't he?

"Do you know what's the matter with them?"

He asked her, buying enough time to think of something to explain why her flowers were dying. She was so young, if she had been a bit older, he thought, he would just come right out and tell her they died.

But she was so young, and still so naïve, he could still see signs of how ill she'd been before he had found her, and so thin! Practically emaciated, so no, he would not tell his frail, beautiful, delicate little sister, that her own frail, delicate beautiful little flowers would die.

She shook her head.

"No brother, I do not. What is the matter with them?"

He looked around the room for any idea he could grasp, when one suddenly came to him.

"The flowers…have been at a…ball last night, and that's why they hang their heads."

Switzerland was proud; he had come up with that in the blink of an eye. Though he was in no way prepared for the barrage of questions and prodding.

He went to stand to leave, Austria was downstairs tuning a piano, and it seemed that he always was. Tuning it or something. Switzerland didn't particularly like the thing in his house, but his box insisted they have one to display for visiting nobles and politicians.

It had been dropped off weeks ago, and now it needed to be tuned, ever the frugal one, Switzerland wasn't one to pay a professional over five thousand dollars to fix it when he knew a perfectly fine jerk who would do it for much less.

Either way the sooner he could get the Austrian out of his home, the better, and besides he didn't trust him alone on another floor.

"But brother! Flowers cannot dance!"

He sat back down and insisted, the story almost coming easily.

"O yes,"

He nodded, face as relaxed as it ever could be, one needed to be convincing.

"When it grows dark, and we are asleep, they jump about merrily. Almost every night they have a ball."

Lichtenstein's eyes grew wide.

"Can children go to this ball?"

"Yes,"

Switzerland said, still nodding, giving no sign of being overly enthusiastic, or too interested. Just being honest…

"Quite little daisies and lilies of the valley."

A look of great surprise and confusion came across her face, and she looked like she had a question, then tried to answer it herself, but asked him anyway when it didn't quite work.

"But brother, where do the beautiful flowers dance?"

This took Switzerland a second, where did flowers dance?

"Have you not often been outside the town gate, by the great castle, where the king lives in summer, and where the beautiful garden is with all the flowers?"

She brought her hands the end of her braids, trying to grasp the thought of the castle.

"You have seen the swans, which swim up to you when you want to give them bread crumbs? There are capital balls there, believe me."

The look he gave was enough not to question. Lichtenstein wasn't sure if he intended to or not, but the look scared her a little.

But she did remember! Her face brightened, and she looked up to her brother excitedly.

"I was out there in the garden yesterday, with my mother," said Ida; "but all the leaves were off the trees, and there was not one flower left. Where are they? In the summer I saw so many."

She looked at him again, curiosity muddled with a slight look of sadness, afraid that all the flowers were gone forever. Switzerland sat up, leaning closer to her.

"Fear not, Lichtenstein, they are within, in the castle, you must know, as soon as the king and all the court go to town, the flowers run out of the garden into the castle and are merry. You should see that. The two most beautiful roses seat themselves on the throne, and then they are king and queen; all the red coxcombs range themselves on either side, and stand and bow; they are the chamberlains. Then all the pretty flowers come, and there is a great ball."

All this talk of flowers was killing him; he wanted terribly to hit himself in the head with a bucket.

But he must, for his darling little sister.

"The blue violets represent little naval cadets; they dance with hyacinths and crocuses, which they call young ladies; the tulips and great tiger-lilies, are old ladies who keep watch that the dancing is well done, and that everything goes on with propriety."

Lichtenstein seemed to be confused, another question handing on the edge of her lip, but she was almost afraid to ask it.

"But…"

She took a second, but Switzerland was impatient.

"Out with it, what?"

She looked up, slightly frightened.

"But, is nobody there who hurts the flowers, for dancing in the king's castle?"

Switzerland shook his head dismissively, and Lichtenstein looked on at him awaiting an explanation.

"There is nobody who really knows about it,"

He spoke as if that was enough of an answer, but his little sister continued to stare as if his words had not been satisfactory. So he looked to the side as if her were contemplating something very serious.

"Sometimes, certainly, the old steward of the castle comes at night, and he has to watch there. He has a great bunch of keys with him; but as soon as the flowers hear the keys rattle they are quite quiet, hide behind the long curtains, and only poke their heads out. Then the old steward says, 'I smell that there are flowers here,' but he cannot see them."

Lichtenstein's hands flew to her mouth as she giggled.

"That is famous!"

She smiled and let out a small little yell, but quieted when she saw her big brothers quiet face. Her face soon complicated again as she thought of new questions.

"But should not I be able to see the flowers?"

Switzerland closed his eyes and nodded. Never had he accredited himself as being a patient man; apparently he was mistaken in thinking suck, for he must have the patience of a saint to keep up this charade.

"Yes, only remember when you go out again, to peep through the window; then you will see them. That is what I did to-day."

Lichtenstein's eyes widened.

"There was a long yellow lily lying on the sofa and stretching herself. She was a court lady."

She seemed to be even more enthralled, and leaned closer to her big brother.

"Can the flowers out of the Botanical Garden get there? Can they go the long distance?"

Switzerland answered almost instantly, though how, he has no idea. For as long as he lived, Switzerland remembered in no way how he was able to come up with this part of the story.

"Yes, certainly," replied the Student; "if they like they can fly. Have you not seen the beautiful butterflies—red, yellow, and white? They almost look like flowers; and that is what they have been. They have flown off their stalks high into the air, and have beaten it with their leaves, as if these leaves were little wings, and thus they flew. And because they behaved themselves well, they got leave to fly about in the day-time too, and were not obliged to sit still upon their stalks at home; and thus at last the leaves became real wings. That you have seen yourself. It may be, however, that the flowers in the Botanical Garden have never been in the king's castle or that they don't know of the merry proceedings there at night. Therefore I will tell you something: he will be very much surprised, the botanical professor, who lives close by here. You know him, do you not? When you come into his garden, you must tell one of the flowers that there is a great ball yonder in the castle. Then that flower tells it to all the rest, and then they will fly away: when the professor comes out into the garden, there will not be a single flower left, and he won't be able to make out where they are gone."

"But how can one flower tell it to another? For, you know, flowers cannot speak."

Switzerland raised a finger as if to say she was right and pointed to her, ah yes, he had all the patience in the world.

"That they cannot, certainly, but…"

He said, grasping for any idea in his mind.

"…then they make signs. Have you not noticed that when the wind blows a little, the flowers nod at one another, and move all their green leaves? They can understand that just as well as we when we speak together."

Lichtenstein looked so very excited at the news of this mysterious flower language.

"Can the professor understand these signs?"

He nodded again, slowly.

"Yes, certainly. He came one morning into his garden and saw a great stinging-nettle standing there, and making signs to a beautiful red carnation with its leaves. It was saying, 'You are so pretty, and I love you with all my heart.' But the professor does not like that kind of thing, and he directly slapped the stinging-nettle upon its leaves, for those are its fingers; but he stung himself, and since that time he has not dared to touch a stinging-nettle."

She giggled again

"That is funny,"

Switzerland smiled for a moment, only a moment, and pat Lichtenstein on the head.

"Good now I must go."

He went to stand and Lichtenstein grabbed onto his hand,

"No brother! Don't leave; tell me more stories about the flowers!"

She smiled so sweetly and almost sat back down, until he heard a completely unwanted voice from the doorway.

"How can anyone put such notions into a child's head?"

Austria shook his head and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Honestly, how cans anyone put such notions into a child's head? Those are stupid fancies!"

Switzerland stood and walked over to him, obviously perturbed.

"What are you doing still in my house; all I asked is for you to fix the piano. Now you may leave!"

Austria stood stoically and answered as if it was nothing.

"I simply came to say I was done and announce my leave when I heard you spreading such stupid stories so flippantly!"

Not at all enthused, Switzerland did not seem to appreciate Austria's sudden attack on his…brothering…skills?

Lichtenstein scooted herself off the couch, she didn't care what Austria said, she knew that her big brother was the smartest student ever, and if he said that the flowers had extravagant balls every night. Then the flowers had extravagant balls every night.

She ignored the fighting and walked over to her doll house. Her flowers still in hand, she picked up the little doll from her bed and placed her in the drawer of the table amongst other toys, saying

"You must really get up, Sophy, and manage to lie in the drawer for tonight. The poor flowers are ill, and they must lie in your bed; perhaps they will then get well again."

Little Lichtenstein frowned, her poor little doll looked so sad, but she couldn't allow her sophy to sleep in her own bed, the flowers simply needed to get better.

She laid the tulips down In sophy's bed and pulled the blanket over them and then pulled the curtain around the bed closed.

"There! Now the sun will not awake you in the morning."

She smiled sweetly and looked over her shoulder at the quarrelling men then leaned in towards the flowers and whispered through the curtain to them.

"I know you are going to the ball—tonight!"

Her flowers made no movement, and lay there as simply as flowers do, but still, Lichtenstein knew what Lichtenstein knew.

She spent the rest of her time that afternoon with her big brother, whispering to the flowers that they passed, and wished them an enjoyable ball.

* * *

><p>That night, lying in her bed, Lichtenstein couldn't calm herself enough to fall asleep. Every time her eyes closed all she could see were the complicated dances and waltz of her garden. So she would open her eyes, and lay in bed, but still all she could think about was the ball being held by the flowers.<p>

"I wonder if my flowers have really been there."

Eventually her eyes grew too heavy, and her excited mind dulled into sleep. However, her dreams of the flower ball were so exciting they awoke her in the middle of the night.

She lay in bed tortured by the idea of what her flowers could be doing.

Her big brother was asleep, her lamp was almost burned out, and there was no reason she couldn't go in and check on her flowers.

She sat up in her bed and swung her feet over the edge of her bed.

Except.

Big brother had always told her to stay in bed at night, not to stay in bed at night, not to wander, it was safer that way. She thought of her wilting flowers though and she just needed to check on them, just a glance.

She picked up the lamp and slowly crept from her room and down the hall, passing her brothers room, and careful not to step on any creaking boards.

As Lichtenstein crept closer to her play room she mumbled to herself.

"I wonder if my flowers are still lying in Sophy's bed."

Then she continued as she pushed the door open ever so slightly.

"How I should like to know it!"

The room was lit with gently moonlight, it was only part of the room, but still, the part that was lit was beautiful.

She took a step into the room and her lamp lit p the room, then as her tiny foot voiced a creak from the floor boards; she heard another noise she wasn't quite expecting.

From out the door Lichtenstein could hear the piano being played softly. It wasn't very loud, but it drifted through the large old home like the scent of freshly baked goods. Making its way into her system and filling the space around her, the sound was like a current Lichtenstein found herself within, entranced by its sweet sound.

She followed along and it led her to the stairs, it was a sound so delightful, and it came from their very own piano.

So, carefully, ever so carefully, she snuck down the stairs, and stood in astonishment in the foyer as the music swirled around her, echoing off all of the walls, floors and domed ceiling. The beautiful noise was enough to make her head tingle, and she smiled and giggled lightly at the odd sensation.

She followed after the music, where she could feel the soft lullaby grow faintly louder.

Once she could figure from which door the music was coming from she spoke softly to herself, her excitement too much to handle. She could only imagine what was making such music.

"Now all the flowers are certainly dancing in there!"

And as she crept closer to the door she nudged it open, just enough to peek inside, so that no other would be able to notice.

"O, how glad I should be to see it!"

And what she saw was enough to take from her a silent gasp and bring her hand to her mouth.

The same moonlight shone through the uncovered window so brightly that the room almost looked no different than it would throughout the day.

The flowerpots on the window sill all lay empty and lax of any plant, for all the flowers within them stood in two rows on the floor.

All the tulips and hyacinths danced gracefully around each other, their green leaves intertwined with that of another's, as if they were the gentle arms of two lovers dancing. Lichtenstein watched the dancing flowers in amazement, for all she knew they were.

Then, her eyes found, that at the piano sat a tall, beautiful, yellow lily. She had certainly seen it over the summer she thought, with her brother, and he had said that it reminded him of Ms. Hungary. They didn't know each other well, but she could understand no especially that the yellow flower reminded her of Ms. Hungary.

It seemed to have all her mannerisms and looked just as she did with her sweet smile.

As the lily continued to play, a large blue flower jumped up upon the table and opened the curtain on sophy's bed where her ill flowers had rested. Lichtenstein had moved it to the room since it held all the flowers around it. She had hoped it would comfort them and help them get better.

But when the big blue crocus pulled aside the curtains her two tulips jumped out looking not at all as ill as they had when she put them to bed.

They jumped around with the other flowers and danced merrily, the old chimney sweep doll bowing to them and dancing together.

Then Lichtenstein noticed something moving on the table, she looked at it and nearly gasped. The large oak rod was jumping down to the floor and began to dance amongst the flowers, a tiny daisy sitting atop it.

It stamped loudly as it danced the mazurka, though the other flowers clapped for him, they couldn't manage to do the dance, being too light.

The wax doll that had been sitting on the oak rod tumbled off in anger and stretched him out so he looked just like Mr. Austria. Lichtenstein frowned, he looked just as annoyed and cross as Mr. Austria.

Then he spoke

"How can one put such things in a child's head? Those are stupid fancies!"

The tiny edelweiss and corn poppies came over and hit him on the head though and he shrank back down to the size of a tiny doll again. Lichtenstein couldn't help but giggle again as she watched mean old Mr. Austria scuttle away.

The flowers danced around him though and eventually they convinced him to keep dancing. Him, the oak rod, and the daisy still sitting upon the oak, along the tiny poppies and edelweiss, they all danced, and the daisy even tried to dance as the oak danced.

But at that moment a loud knocking came from within the drawer.

The chimney sweep doll ran to the drawer and pulled it out a little bit, enough for sophy to poke out and look into the room, rather as finished.

"There must be a ball here."

Sophy said, Lichtenstein watched amazedly at her doll, she was speaking!

Then the chimney sweep doll walked up to her and held out this hand.

"Will you dance with me?"

She turned her back to him and spoke sarcastically, a bit of venom in her thin voice.

"You are a nice sort of fellow to dance!"

Sophy hopped out of the drawer and awaited the leaf of a flower to ask her to dance. The chimney sweep walked back to the merriment and began to dance again by himself. Sophy coughed a few times to try and bring attention to herself, but nobody came. And the chimney sweep continued to dance on his own with his friends and he was quite fine.

Sophy, quite not so fine, decided to drop herself from the table onto the floor, so loud Lichtenstein heard it echo down the hall again. She cringed hoping it didn't wake her brother, but after she didn't hear any disturbances, she looked back and saw the flowers rushing around sophy to check on her.

Lichtenstein's tulips helped her stand and took her with them to the middle of the floor to dance.

It was where the moon shone the brightest and they twirled and turned, and Lichtenstein's tulips spoke kindly to sophy, thanking her repeatedly for letting them sleep in her bed.

Sophy was glad, she was having fun and enjoying herself and simply adored Lichtenstein's tulips; she even offered them her bed again for another night. Now that she knew the flowers she had no quarries for having to stay in the drawer. The tulips smiled sadly and spoke

"We thank you heartily, but in any way we cannot live long. To-morrow we shall be quite dead. But tell little Ida she is to bury us out in the garden, where the canary lies; then we shall wake up again in summer, and be far more beautiful."

Sophy looked as if she might start to cry.

"No, you must not die!"

And she kissed the flowers on their cheeks.

But at that moment the door opened wide and dozens of gorgeous looking flowers came tumbling in. Lichtenstein stared in awe as she watched the flowers flow in, thinking they must have come from the king's castle.

The first two were beautiful glorious roses, and they had little gold crowns on. These two were king and queen. Then came the stocks and carnations, who were truly the most charismatic of them all, and they bowed in all directions that there were flowers. Poppies and peonies blew on empty peapods like they were horns until they were red in the face. The blue hyacinths and the snowdrops rang just as if they had been on bells, and once again Lichtenstein delighted at the music, it was so wonderful! And all the flowers greeted each other as if they were old friends, hugging each other and kissing like old friends.

She delighted in all she saw, they danced and danced for hours and eventually far into the night the flowers bid each other goodnight and the music finally came to a stop.

The flowers began to say goodnight to one another, and while she could she snuck away without being seen.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Lichtenstein rushed downstairs to the same tiny table to check on her flowers she saw dancing so beautifully before.<p>

She pulled back the curtains and looked at her flowers. Last night they had been quite vibrant and lively; now they were anything but, faded and dead looking.

She sighed and opened the drawer where sophy lay, and took her doll out.

"Do you remember what you were to say to me?"

Lichtenstein asked her doll, but sophy didn't say a word. She lay in Lichtenstein's hands without speaking

"You are not good at all!"

She said to her doll, how she dare not answer her, when Lichtenstein knew very well she could speak. Then she stroked her doll's hair, almost apologetically.

"And yet they all danced with you."

She set her doll down and took the paints that had lain next to her popular little doll. She set them down and began to paint on a small box. Pictures of birds and skies, fields and flowers, all decorated the sides of her old box, and she placed her poor dead flowers inside very gently.

"That shall be your pretty coffin,"

She draped thin tissue over them to protect their thin frail stems and spoke to them again.

"And when my cousins come to visit me by and by they shall help me to bury you outside in the garden, so that you may grow again in summer, and become more beautiful than ever."

Lichtenstein's cousins were two boys. One very mischievous, while the other way more serious and responsible. Their names were Gilbert and Ludwig, and their father had given them two new cross bows which they had brought with them.

Poor Lichtenstein told her cousins about her flowers with a heavy heart, and all three left to bury them, though not without a few rude comments from her cousin Gilbert.

Out in the garden they dug a small grave, and Lichtenstein gave a kiss to her departed flowers before placing them into their box and down into their grave.

Then Ludwig and Gilbert each shot an arrow over the small grave, because neither of them had a gun nor cannon.


End file.
